Chapter 74

Chapter 74

 

In the Empire, cigarettes and cigars were pure, untainted by the chemical additives one might find elsewhere. 

They were made simply by drying leaves and rolling them—a dream for any environmentalist. 

Smoking here meant savoring the plant itself, with no harmful industrial chemicals, but the scent was overpowering.

Even if you slathered on chocolate or fruit flavors, the harsh smoke refused to dissipate.

The Emperor, as well as the lords who trembled while carrying out his commands, were all hopeless romantics and fervent environmentalists, devoted to their love for nature. 

They cherished these lovely tobacco leaves far more than the insignificant subjects who dared to harm the environment.

In a way, even though my family had fallen, and my house was in ruins, perhaps the only happiness I had left was the fact that I could still puff away on a cigarette, pretending to be a noble.

“Erica, this room is filling up with smoke. How about opening a window for some fresh air?”

“What’s the big deal? Want to try one? This time, I infused it with the scent of the tea you brought me.”

With a flick of Evan’s fingers, the air in the room began to circulate instantly.

He gathered the smoke into one spot, opened the balcony door, and tossed it all outside as if it were something toxic.

Well, I suppose it was harmful. But then again, wouldn’t healing magic take care of that?

If lung cancer were to develop, you could just cut out the affected part and regrow it with magic.

The same went for any other nameless organ that might’ve been torn out.

“I only tried it because you like it, but I don’t like it that much.”

“Is that so?”

Feeling slightly embarrassed, I retracted the hand offering him a cigarette and scratched the back of my head.

Not that it made the embarrassment go away.

“How many days has it been since we came back?”

“I think it’s been about two weeks. Why?”

Evan busied himself cleaning up the mess I had made in the room. He even used some laundry-like spell to wash the bloodstains from the towels in midair.

“It’s about time for Vivian to come looking for me. At least, that’s how it went the first time.”

I grabbed my slightly stinging wrist.

I had nothing better to do, so I had been picking at my wrist with my nails.

It wasn’t just boredom—it was also the natural duty of a Mecklenburg lady to punish despicable people.

“That time, after the family had completely fallen, after Father and my brother had both died, I thought about dying too. Then Vivian showed up and comforted me.”

“Comforted you?”

“Providing a dying person with a drink and some cookies must’ve been satisfying for her.”

“But would Vivian really think that way about you…”

Evan trailed off.

In hindsight, it was clear that Vivian never wanted me to die.

Yes, she didn’t want me to die.

She put happiness aside, and even the mental drive to sustain life or a sense of pride—all that was secondary. As long as the body remained alive, she didn’t seem to care.

Maybe if she had seen my father hanging in front of her, tongue protruding, she would’ve thought survival was the first priority too.

But then, my father’s mind had already died before he committed the act, hadn’t it? He was a fool who hadn’t learned anything from what had happened.

“She would, I suppose. If you died, Vivian would be incredibly sad.”

“Yes, she’s the type who would be heartbroken if I died. But unlike you, she wouldn’t resort to the insane lengths you went to just to keep a dead person alive.”

At that, Evan laughed and walked toward me.

“So, do you hate her for that?”

“No, I love it to the point of madness.”

When I first bled to death, the second time when my neck was severed and I swam through the blue ocean called the sky, the third time when a bullet churned through my brain, and even when I was turned from Lady Erica Mecklenburg to Mecklenburg-style barbecue.

Even when I was captured by the Crown Prince and subjected to unspeakable horrors and abuse at the hands of his men.

“I love it to death. I’m madly satisfied with being alive, breathing in this moment.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’m really alive, and I feel the urge to confirm that red blood still courses through my veins. But even then, I’m happy—so much so that it’s unbearable.”

The problem, however, is that others likely feel the same way.

They’re probably just as overjoyed to be alive as I am.

While I consider these countless lives insignificant, to them, their lives are the only ones they have.

It’s not important.

Not at all.

Is it?

“I wonder if Vivian feels this kind of euphoria about being alive every day.”

Evan didn’t respond.

These days, my emotions often surged uncontrollably, leading to moments like this where my words spilled out impulsively.

When that happened, Evan would clasp his hands together like a bishop gazing reverently at his goddess, observing me as I reveled in my own life. It seemed to bring him a quiet satisfaction.

Whether it was love, camaraderie, or mere altruism, no one could tell.

Only Evan knew.

“Who knows.

But I beat Vivian, returned to where you were alive, and kept you alive—or at least, I’m in the process of keeping you alive.”

“What exactly do you mean by ‘keeping me alive’?”

“The Emperor and Crown Prince are dead. Vivian and the so-called heroes incapacitated. And the deaths of hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions.”

“You make it sound like I’m some kind of disaster god.”

“If you want a life where no one interferes, a satisfying and proud existence, then you’ll need to destroy that much to achieve it.

Your cruel fate is tied up in countless threads of misfortune and complications.

The best way to handle those threads is to cut or burn them.”

Evan extended his hand to me, looking unusually contemplative.

I handed him the tea-infused cigarette I had been smoking.

He took a drag, then handed it back, saying it wasn’t to his taste after all.

“Vivian will probably become the Imperial Court Mage someday—perhaps even stand on her own.

And she’ll turn other mages into bumbling fools who can’t even compare to her.

She’s just that talented.”

Evan seemed to harbor a mix of fondness and disdain for Vivian, as though their relationship carried a familiar enmity.

He had mentioned before that if not for Vivian, the so-called Imperial heroes active during his time of rebellion would have all been dead long ago.

“So, are you saying you’ll kill Vivian?”

I flicked the long ash from my cigarette.

“That depends on Vivian.”

Though he said that, Evan seemed to have already made up his mind.

I don’t know what happened between Evan and Vivian after I died.

I never asked, and I didn’t want to know.

All I knew were bits and pieces—snippets of gossip suggesting their relationship had soured, that Evan hated her.

That’s all I needed to imagine.

“Is it really necessary to go that far?”

I wasn’t fond of extreme measures.

Unlike those who snapped under stress and caused havoc in the city—stealing a police officer’s gun and taking hostages—I simply isolated myself in my room.

When things got too overwhelming, I would go to the park, watch children play, and let my anguish drift away with the smoke.

That was it.

At least, I think that’s all I ever did.

“By the way, I just met Vivian.

Or rather, that gentleman from the Strelitz family told me.

Vivian feels bad about her fight with you and wants to apologize.

She’s planning to bake cookies and other things you like and bring them to you.”

“And?”

“Vivian thinks of you as a friend.

She cares about you a lot.

Honestly, if you didn’t keep trying to die right in front of her, she wouldn’t insist on clinging to you like she did last time.”

It was a hard thing to respond to.

It was awkward, too.

So instead of replying, I let out a soft laugh.

The exhaled air carried both the acrid smoke of my cigarette and the fragrant aroma of tea.

Though, of course, the former far outweighed the latter.

“Haha.”

“The Crown Prince wouldn’t bother with you now, especially with the atmosphere being this chaotic.

For now, just get along with Vivian. Then, slip some poison into her food or, if she’s asleep, cut her head off.”

“I told you—do we really need to go that far?”

Evan responded as if he were stating the most obvious logic.

“If Vivian could only save one person—either you or two complete strangers—who do you think she’d choose?”

Then he corrected himself, as if realizing something. “No, wait. Make that three strangers, since she’d probably choose you over just two.”

I couldn’t answer easily.

The just and compassionate Vivian would probably choose to save three nameless, faceless strangers over me.

“You know as well as I do that the Crown Prince might lose interest and let you go. But chances are, that won’t happen.

He’ll want to lock you up in a gilded cage, hidden deep within the Imperial Palace.

And you wouldn’t want to be dragged there. So your only options are to spend your life running or throw the Empire into disarray.”

Then he added:

“But when that time comes, will Vivian still be on your side?”

I didn’t want to hear it.

It felt like she’d never truly been on my side.

At critical moments, she always seemed to side with those who tormented me. I didn’t know why, but that’s how it felt.

So, I gave a careless, noncommittal answer.

“I don’t know.”

Evan didn’t press me further.

As always, a faint weariness lingered in the air.